


After Fencing

by FriendsCallMeTonks



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, F/F, High School, Sex, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 05:57:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendsCallMeTonks/pseuds/FriendsCallMeTonks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ymir is a star athlete and she's losing her cool. Christa helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Fencing

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to submit this to imagineyumikuri (dot) tumblr (dot) com (which is excellent, btw), but it just got longer and longer and longer... Anyway, it's a one-shot, unedited, for the helluvit fanfic. Enjoy!

Imagine Ymir and Christa are in a modern day high school. Ymir is on the school's fencing team and honestly she's probably the best on the team. And she's a total pill not letting anyone forget it. Christa is Ymir's best friend (although why she would choose to hang out with a punk like Ymir is anyone's guess).

A big fencing tournament is coming up, and Ymir is beginning to freak out some. While school work never fazes her, Christa watches Ymir spiral out of control, practicing ridiculous hours--even by her coach's standards-- and forgetting to eat and losing sleep etc. At first she tries to gently suggest to Ymir that her growing obsession might hurt her performance at the tournament, but finally Christa can't take it anymore.

After school at practice, a week before the tournament, Christa shows up and informs Ymir that she's going home. Right now. When Ymir protests, Christa freakin' headbutts her. The coach, seeing how desperately his star pupil need sleep, jumps in to help Christa shove her out the door. Christa drives Ymir home, and when they arrive, she takes out a large duffel bag of her own. "What the hell are you doing, squirt?" Ymir asks.

"I talked to your parents. I'm staying here until the tournament to make you eat your damn food and get some fucking sleep," Christa replies. Ymir's shocked--and not only by the vocabulary the normally demure blonde avoids. She's not going to lie to herself--Ymir is very happy to have Christa around--but...

"Uh... but where are you...?"

"In your bed next to you, where I can make sure you aren't reviewing fencing crap," Christa replies matter-of-factly. Ymir's face turns bright red, and is grateful the sun has already set so Christa can't see it. As they walk inside, she tries to regain her composure. They've had sleepovers before, of course, but lately Ymir's been having... feelings... about Christa that she's not entirely sure would be welcomed by her truest friend.

"Uh..." she mumbles. "Okay."

And that's exactly what happens. Christa forces Ymir to keep a healthy schedule for the whole week, and Ymir somehow manages to sleep despite feeling incredibly awkward and tempted in her own bed. By the night of the tournament, Ymir performs spectacularly.

After the concluding ceremony, as families and friends mass around the contestants, Ymir finds Christa in the crowd. "Christa!" she shouts, showing off her bouquet and medal. "Christa, I'm going to nationals!"

Christa runs up to her friend, beaming up at the sight of such joy on the usually morose face. Her freckles are just too cute! "I'm so proud of you, Ymir! You were amazing! You totally deserve it!" As she runs up to the olive-skinned teen, Ymir wraps her arms around her waist, lifts her and spins. "Christa, thank you so much!" Ymir laughs. "I'm so happy I could kiss you!"

Christa gasps, because just as she said, Ymir plants her lips on Christa's. She continues to laugh ecstatically and twirls a bit more before putting her friend down on the ground again. Then it hits Ymir what she's just done, and her face drops.

"Holy shit, C-Christa, I didn't mean to do that! I was just really, uh, excited, um..." Ymir stammers, blood rushing to her face. Her tongue feels suddenly thick and clammy.

Christa stands there, blinking stupidly up at her for a second. But just as soon as that one second passes, she locks eyes with Ymir. "Me. You. Outside.  _Now_."

 _Oh shit, oh shit, oh fucking shit,_ Ymir thinks. She had been feeling so ecstatic, victorious even, after winning the tournament. She thought maybe she could have even asked Christa out after all of this. Now she's gone and fucked it all up! Helplessly, her bouquet, medal, and uniform in hand and her sword's case slung over her shoulder, Ymir follows Christa's bobbing yellow head through the crowd toward the exit.

Imagine Ymir's surprise when she walks out the doors to the parking lot and suddenly a tiny human has pressed her back against the brick wall of the building, blonde hair surrounding Ymir's face as lips urgently pull at her own. In her shock, Ymir drops everything, lifts her arms to support Christa, kisses back fervently even as her mind races to catch up with what the crap is going on. Ymir whimpers as Christa slowly, trustingly, lifts her legs from the ground and wrap them around Ymir's waist. Hands cup the sides of Ymir's face, nails gently tugging at her skin, and when there's a pause, Ymir opens her eyes to see smokey blue ones gazing at her.

 _Holy fucking shit, what baby did I save to get this helluva day?_  Ymir wonders.

That's about the time her brain catches up. "Christa?" Ymir asks, even as the blond in her arms plants pecks to her hot skin. "Is this--What are you--Hey blondie, I'm trying to ask you a question, dammit!"

"No time," Christa mutters, her voice husky, making Ymir tremble.

"Car?" Ymir offers.

"Mmm," Christa replies with a quick nod before she presses herself to Ymir's lips again. Quite content, Ymir starts walking out into the parking log, oblivious to much of the world around her. "Wait, your things!" Christa says.

"Aaahhrgh!" Ymir groans. She roughly places Christa down on her feet, runs back to grab her belongings from beside the building, and races back through the parking lot with Christa trotting just behind her. With a fervor she knows she might regret if she later discovers damage, Ymir throws her things into the passenger seat of her car and starts the heat on full force. When she extracts herself from the front, she discovers Christa has already lowered the back seats of the hatchback and is sitting there waiting for her. She notes distantly that the windows are fogging up even quicker than she hoped. Ymir locks the doors behind her.

As Christa's tongue parries her own, as deft hands embrace Ymir, seemingly everywhere at once, the tall teenager becomes intoxicated. Only after an unknowable amount of time, discovering herself on her knees and elbows above her friend, does Ymir manage to remember something very important.

"You sure about this?" Ymir asks urgently.

"Hell yes I am; are you?" Christa replies. Ymir gives a curt nod, barely able to keep eye contact under that blue stare. She kisses her 'friend' again, coaxing her onto her back. Although Ymir's hands have wandered freely up to this point, she consciously directs them now, deliberate in her motions. Much to her satisfaction, Christa gasps as one hand wraps round her breast, rubbing her t-shirt fabric just above her nipple, just as she firmly grasps Christa's ass.

She massages at both, enjoying Christa's attempts to return such a favorable touch, until she can work her hands under both the t-shirt and skirt. Suddenly, Christa sits up.

"You," she says, "You should take something off, too." Wasting no time, Christa works at Ymir's clothes, determined to get her undressed before Ymir can do the same. They laugh at their racing, moan at the sight at touch of each other's skin. Before Ymir can continue her work, however, Christa's mouth sucks at an exposed nipple.

"Fuck!" Ymir gasps, reflexively grabbing a fistful of Christa's hair. In response, Christa whimpers. Ymir can't help but shiver again.

Before she's fully aware of how she's done it or how, Ymir finds herself sitting (at an angle, given the car's size) with Christa straddling her, her lips hopping back and forth between freckled breasts. Occasionally now, however, Christa must stop to make an exclamation herself, because--again, somehow--Ymir's fingers gently tug and flick and rub against the base of Christa's thighs. For blissful ages, they taunt each other like this, touching each other's sensitive spots just barely not enough. Finally Christa growls up at Ymir, "I swear, Ymir, if you don't fuck me right now, I'm going to-- aanh!"

Christa does not finish her sentence. Two of Ymir's fingers, already soaking wet, push into Christa, gently (at least until Christa's grinding against her hand makes it perfectly clear to Ymir that it would appropriate to fuck hard). She keeps her thumb pressed against the bud of Christa's clit, smiling devilishly at how she can feels Christa's whole body respond to every little touch. For her part, Christa does try to keep up, but before much longer, all efforts become fruitless. Ymir coaxes her on, kissing Christa's neck and collarbone even as the girl spasms around her fingers, whimpering Ymir's name through the climax. She collapses against Ymir, huffing happily and twitching through the aftereffects of her high.

"So," Ymir breathes through a grin. She swipes some of her hair out of her face. "Car sex."

"You have no idea," Christa replies slowly, her voice coated with sweet adoration, "how badly I've been wanting you all week... well, longer than a week, but..."

"Actually," Ymir says with a chuckle, "I think I have a bit of an idea. One hell of a victory present!"

"Oh we haven't even gotten that far yet," Christa replies, her lips moving against Ymir's neck, her hands wandering bravely across the freckled body once again.


End file.
